


sleep without you

by complicationstoo



Series: STB Bingo Round One [17]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Established Relationship, M/M, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers Gets a Hug, Steve Rogers Has PTSD, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Tony Stark Has A Heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-17 18:55:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29845992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/complicationstoo/pseuds/complicationstoo
Summary: Steve flips channels mindlessly for a while, seeing flashes of dark water every time the screen goes black in between the changing images. After a while, he settles for a rerun of some sitcom he was in the ice for originally. He doesn’t know the characters, and he forces himself to focus on trying to understand the plot so that he can’t think of anything else. That’s probably why he doesn’t notice that he isn’t alone anymore until a hand is on his shoulder. Steve reaches up on instinct to grab at the other person’s wrist, jumping up from the couch.“Oh, shit, sorry,” they say, and Steve knows that voice, though he’s having trouble placing it. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”Oh, Tony, Steve thinks, and relief floods his veins.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Series: STB Bingo Round One [17]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2037892
Comments: 13
Kudos: 133
Collections: STB Bingo: Round One





	sleep without you

**Author's Note:**

> For my Steve | Tony | Bucky Bingo square:  
> i3 - capsicle

Steve wakes with a start, cold settled deep in his bones in the suffocating darkness of his bedroom. He reaches for the string on the lamp and misses the first time with shaking hands, but the pale yellow light makes it slightly easier to breathe when he gets it on the second try. The little clock on his nightstand tells him it’s just after two in the morning. His alarm won’t go off for another four hours, but the tightness in his chest tells him he won’t be getting even a minute of those hours. 

He doesn’t like to stay in bed on nights like this, so he pushes the covers off, shivering as the air hits his sweat-slick skin. The elevator ride to the common floor takes less than thirty seconds, and the lights come on automatically to bathe the living space with just the right amount of white glow. 

The remote for the television is nowhere to be seen, and he searches for it in the cracks between cushions and under blankets, until he finally finds it underneath the couch. He could ask JARVIS, he knows, but there’s something about holding a solid thing in his hand that always helps. 

He flips channels mindlessly for a while, seeing flashes of dark water every time the screen goes black in between the changing images. After a while, he settles for a rerun of some sitcom he was in the ice for originally. He doesn’t know the characters, and he forces himself to focus on trying to understand the plot so that he can’t think of anything else. That’s probably why he doesn’t notice that he isn’t alone anymore until a hand is on his shoulder. Steve reaches up on instinct to grab at the other person’s wrist, jumping up from the couch. 

“Oh, shit, sorry,” they say, and Steve knows that voice, though he’s having trouble placing it. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

_ Oh, Tony,  _ Steve thinks, and relief floods his veins. 

“Uh, your grip is a little tight there, Cap. Mind letting up there a bit?”

Steve’s grip slackens immediately, and he stumbles back. Guilt filters in a second later, and the stammered apology starts. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean - you’re okay, right? Did I - did I hurt you?”

Tony steps around the arm of the couch, and Steve fights the urge to take a step back in response. As if he can sense it, Tony gives him a soft smile and says, “Relax, Steve. You didn’t hurt me, and even if you did, it’d be my own fault for sneaking up on you in the middle of the night. Not my best call, I’ll admit.”

Steve lets him close the distance between the two of them, taking deep breaths to calm his racing heart, which Tony must be feeling underneath the palm he places on Steve’s chest. He puts his hand over Tony’s, threading their fingers together. Leaning in, he lets his head drop down to rest their foreheads together. 

“You weren’t supposed to be back until tomorrow,” Steve murmurs with closed eyes. “It’s only Thursday.”

Tony hums, and his other hand comes up to card through Steve’s hair. “Managed to wrap things up ahead of schedule. Got back on the plane the second I could.”

Tony’s nails drag slowly across his scalp, light and soothing. Steve lets himself sink into the feeling, and it’s a much better distraction than anything else he’s tried tonight. 

“Wanna talk about what’s got you up so late, honey?” Tony asks. 

Steve shakes his head almost imperceptibly. “Just no good at sleeping without you.”

He doesn’t have to say it outright for Tony to know exactly what he means. They’ve weathered enough of these storms together for Tony to know that Steve dreams of ice and trains and gunfire and for Steve to know that Tony dreams of endless darkness and caves and falling. It’s better when they’re together - when Steve can wake up to the feeling of Tony’s weight on his chest or his arms wrapped around him and know instantly that he’s safe. But business trips and missions mean nights spent alone sometimes, and both of them are still learning how to feel okay again when they’re alone. 

“I know the feeling,” Tony says. “Haven’t slept much since last Wednesday myself. Hotel bed felt all wrong without you taking up ninety percent of it.”

Steve smiles at the old, familiar argument, “I don’t take up that much.”

“Mm, sure you don’t, sweetheart.”

“Not my fault you’re so small.”

Tony scoffs, but Steve knows that if he were to open his eyes right now, there would be a grin on his face. “I’m perfectly averaged sized, and you know it.”

“Small. So, so very small. Practically pocket sized.”

“Whatever,” Tony laughs, and Steve does open his eyes this time to see it. He didn’t get a very good look at him before, not when he was too busy being terrified that he hurt him, and Steve has missed the sight of him. He’s still dressed in the charcoal gray suit he must have worn to his meetings earlier, though his blue dress shirt is unbuttoned at the top and the tie is long gone. His eyes are warm, but there’s a clear tiredness about him that’s settled in deep over their time apart. 

Steve lifts his hand, running his thumb over one of the dark circles under Tony’s eyes. “We should get you to bed,” he says, as though he’s the one doing Tony a favor here. As if Tony didn’t walk right in and redeem his entire day in all of five seconds. 

“You should absolutely take me to bed,” Tony smiles, wrapping his arms around Steve’s shoulders. “And you should also skip your morning run, because I need at least eight uninterrupted hours with you, starting right now.”

Steve kisses him, slowly to make up for all the ones they didn’t get in the last week, and a rush of warmth flushes away the last of the ice in his veins. 

“I’m all yours, sweetheart.”

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr [@ifmywishescametrue](https://ifmywishescametrue.tumblr.com) :)


End file.
